Drunken Rabbits
by Sky Blue Angel
Summary: Chase is drunk, Foreman is working late. And, apparently, there might be a rabbit in the building. Chase/Foreman


"You're drunk

Title: Drunken Rabbits

Author: Danielle

Rating: PG-13 (he's drunk!)

Pairing: Chase/Foreman

Warning: Slash, kiss, comedy, drunken Chase, bunnies, semi-fluff

Summary: Chase's drunk, Foreman's working late and it's against hospital policy to let someone drink and drive.

Notes: Beta-ed by Rachel, again.

"You're drunk." Foreman didn't even look up from the computer screen. The door to his office had swung open after a few minutes of shuffling feet right outside and a few loud, throat-clearing, coughs.

"Not." Chase stumbled the few steps into Dr. House's and collapsed on the chair. "Cameron's drunk."

"She might be. But she's not here." Foreman resisted, very strongly, the urge to look up. The blonde man's voice was slurred and paying attention would have just encouraged him. "And neither should you. Go home."

"There a rabbit in room 462." That was enough to earn an eyebrow raising and a glance up. Chase was lounging in the chair, arms flopped over the armrests and eyes on the ceiling. "It's a very cute bunny."

"Is it the Easter bunny?" Once again, Foreman turned back to his work. "Go home, Dr. Chase." His rapid-fire typing was interrupted by a hand on his keyboard and blonde hair in his eyes.

"It's a little, fuzzy black and white bunny." The alcohol on Chase's breath was not sweetened by the after-scent of hospital soaps on his skin. Foreman leaned back involuntarily on to find a very voluntary Chase following him.

"Room 462?" A few clicks later and Foreman was giving Chase a fairly unbelieving look. "That's not even our patient. That's not even our floor." He sighed and irritably brushed the blonde away. "Go home. You're drunk."

"Are you telling a drunk man to drive himself home, Dr. Foreman?" House's appearance in the doorway was surprisingly silent and, as the 'o' Foreman's mouth formed, quite unexpected. "Unless the hospital has a new policy, that's a big no-no."

"Yeah, Eric." Chase had leaned back, slurring his word and pressing against the edge of the desk. "I can't drive home, I'm drunk."

"You just said you weren't." But Foreman knew, just from House's tone, he wouldn't be sending the blonde back in his own car. "Sit down. I'm on-duty for another two hours. Unless Dr. House would be so kind as to take you home?"

"Motorcycling cripple, can't take home a drunken blonde." With a nod House limped out of the door. "He'll fit in your backseat quite well."

Wilson peered into the room as he followed House out, shrugging at Foreman. Though he didn't spare much of a glance for Chase, the blond waved at him.

"Sit down. I'm off duty in an hour." With a jab of his finger Foreman directed Chase to the chair in the corner of the office. "I'll drive you home. Don't make noise, don't move, and don't look for anymore rabbits."

"I wasn't looking for the rabbit." Chase was pouting as he slouched in the chair, kicking his feet up onto the footrest. "They were playing with it in the hall."

"Just don't move." Foreman went back to his work with a sigh, transcribing the indescribable excitement that was House's out-of-date records. Though very few things could have taken more time than deciphering House's cryptic remarks regarding a patient into something the resembled a professional document.

When he did look up from the scribbled notes on a patient who had asthma (there was something about overbearing mothers and cortisone and very little about the child's actual problem) Chase wasn't just sitting in the chair. He was lounging, half-conscious and very drunk-looking. His shirt had somehow either undone itself or been unbuttoned while Foreman was writing. And Chase had a very, very white chest.

A very white chest, with almost no hair, that was somehow shimmering in the moonlight. Although Foreman was fairly sure that was only a turn of phrase in romance novels, it seemed true. He kicked his seat back as he stood, pulling the jacket on in the same motion. The middle of the night was one of the worst times for working and having to drive a drunken colleague home didn't make it any better.

"Get up." He kicked the leg of the chair, watching Chase start and almost fall over. Being quite thankful for armrest, Foreman grabbed the other man's outstretched arm. "Time to go home."

"Midnight already?" Chase hiccupped, pulling himself upright and wobbling slightly. "Did I fall asleep?"

"Yes." Foreman just pulled Chase down the hall, leading him to the parking lot and, the moment he could, pushing the blonde man into the car. The fairly drunk doctor stumbled against the edge of the car and fell out of the door with a pained sound.

"You missed?" With a heaved sigh, Foreman grabbed Chase's hand. The strength behind that arm had been hidden by surgeon maneuverings and drunken flails, a jerk of Chase's wrist bring Foreman down to the ground beside him. Cleanly clothed knees hit the ground with a wince and a glare.

"So did you!" Giggling the paler man pulled himself to his knees, hand still wrapped around Foreman's arm. They knelt for a moment, eye to eye and silence interrupted only by the occasional hiccupping giggle from Chase.

Then the blond man leaned forward and kissed Foreman. It wasn't much of a kiss, compounded by the fact that Chase managed to miss Foreman's lips and hit only the corner. But his tongue pressed against the skin; both their eyes closing tightly. Foreman wanted to jerk away, body twitching.

He didn't move. Something stopped him, holding him so still right there on the cold and dirty ground. His fingers curled on the asphalt, pulling up dirt and dust beneath his nails. A slow snort came from Chase. Though Foreman didn't notice for a moment what that snort meant, he quickly noticed the drool on his cheek and the flutter eye lashes so close to his own.

"Chase?" He grabbed the other man's shoulder, pulling his limp weight away. "… Fuck." The snort became a snore and soon Foreman had Chase draped over his shoulders in a fireman's carry for the few steps to the car. Once he had dumped his fellow doctor into the car, he drove off.

The seatbelt flapped next to Chase's shoulder, the constant beeping reminding Foreman he hadn't strapped the other man in. But he just ignored the sound for the sake of focusing on driving, watching the headlights stream past him. There was no crash, no sound of metal on metal no matter how little attention he actually paid to the road.

Dragging Chase's limp and snoring body out of his car was not Foreman's idea of the best way to the spend the middle of the night. But he ignored the moon over his head and dragged the other man until the drunken feet started to stumble on the rough concrete. By the time they were standing at the door Chase was almost upright. He somehow managed to unlock the door and let them in.

Foreman dropped him on the doorstep of his apartment, waving and reminding him not to be late in the morning. Chase just pulled the door open and waved limp fingers at the back of the other doctor. The sound of the lock clicking echoed as he stepped into the stairwell; the silence of the building slowly building.

But he spent the next hour sitting in his car, fingers on his cheek, waiting for the light in Chase's apartment to shut off. He watched the figure wander from window to window, watched Chase settle on the couch and wondered when the other man would sleep. And when the lights did click off, he almost forgot to drive home.

And he was an hour late the next morning, dark circles under his eyes and no good excuse. House didn't even grill him, just rolled his eyes and followed Wilson to breakfast. The paperwork Foreman had finished the night before was back with vengeance.

Chase stayed in the office the entire day, curled in the armchair and filling out a crossword puzzle. Cameron tried to help him; he refused all her answers. Just yawned and claimed the brain work would keep him awake. Once he started snoring, she left to find the missing House. And didn't come back.

When Foreman stood at noon for lunch and while Chase slept in the chair, he looked over the other man's shoulder.

The puzzle was blank.


End file.
